Power To - Week 1

"I want to invite you to open your Bibles with me to Acts chapter 1. So, over the past few weeks, I’ve been having some serious issues with mowing the grass at the parsonage. It all started on April 22nd when I mowed for the first time by the old septic system. As I was mowing by the leach field, the blades suddenly stopped, and the mower shut down. Naturally, I thought, ‘What in the world just happened?’ It fired back up right away, but when I tried to engage the deck again, it stalled. Long story short, I eventually found a piece of wire hanging out from the side of the mower, and when I looked underneath, I discovered something even crazier: someone had thrown a whole bundle of electrical Romex wire in the weeds, and I had run over it! But that wasn’t the end of the story. A week later, the same thing happened. The mower stalled, started up, but the deck wouldn’t engage. I went back to the garage and found that there was an inner tube hidden somewhere on the property, and, of course, I found it. And the saga continued… another week, another breakdown. This time, I hit a string of barbed wire. After dealing with that, I thought, “Okay, surely this will be the last of my mower problems.” But no, it gets worse. The next week, as I mowed along the front of the house near the highway, the mower locked up again. This time, when I went to the garage to check, I found rebar wrapped around the blades. Now, have you ever tried to bend rebar? It’s tough. I tried everything—my hands, my feet—nothing worked. So I grabbed my torch, thinking I could heat it up and make it more pliable… but nothing. No matter what I did, I couldn’t bend it. So I pulled out the big guns—the Craftsman oscillating tool and a reciprocating saw. It was amazing to me that I couldn’t do it with my own strength, but the tools had all the power I needed to cut through that stubborn rebar and get the mower working again. And now, the churches mower is in the garage, broken, waiting for Luke to come fix it—somehow, the pullies for the blades are seized. But that’s a whole different story.

Now, what’s the point of all this? Here’s what I want to highlight: So often in our spiritual lives, we’re trying to live for Christ with trying to fix our hardships with our own hands—we’re trying to do everything in our own strength, relying on our own power. But, just like I couldn’t get that mower to work without the right power tools, we can’t live the Christian life the way we’re meant to without the power of the Holy Spirit. Power is something we all crave. In fact, it’s something that, if we’re not careful, can be dangerous. Power, if used the wrong way, can hurt you. We’ve all seen it—power can corrupt. Sir John Dalberg-Acton said in the mid-1800s: “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” He was warning us that power, when misused, can destroy a person morally, leading to pride and selfishness. Now, the disciples weren’t any different. They wanted power too. In Acts 1:6, look with me, it says: “So when the apostles were with Jesus, they kept asking him, ‘Lord, has the time come for you to free Israel and restore our kingdom?’” What were they asking? They wanted power. They were looking for deliverance from the Romans and not just deliverance, but revenge, and they were hoping Jesus would use His power to set them free in a way they understood—political power. They wanted the reciprocating saw power. They wanted to cut through their enemies, get rid of their oppressors, and take back control. That makes me think of James and John, the sons of thunder. They were with Jesus in Samaria when the people there rejected them. The two of them, fired up and feeling a bit offended, said to Jesus, “Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?” (Luke 9:54). And as I think about that, I can’t help but laugh—because it's so human. I mean, how many times have we been offended or angered, and deep down, we’ve wanted revenge? How many of us have looked at situations in our lives where we’ve felt mistreated or wronged, and in our hearts, we've wanted the power to make it right— but we wanted not make it right, our way?

But what did Jesus say in response to James and John? “You don’t know what kind of spirit you are of.” (Luke 9:55). “For the Son of Man did not come to destroy men’s lives but to save them.” Can you imagine in your life when you want to harm someone, or let something harm someone because of your anger? Like when someone cuts us off on the road because there in a hurry… oh man I hope you get pulled over by the cops. And get a ticket.. and then when I pass you.. i’m gonna honk and wave. That’s a destructive attitude. One that would aim to Destry or harm a life, not save it. So, what did Jesus say? How did He respond to their thirst for power? How does He respond to our thirst for power—our own version of control and revenge? His response redefines everything. And these words are the foundation of our new series: He says to the disciples in acts, “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you. And you will be my witnesses…” (Acts 1:8). Jesus isn’t offering them the power to destroy or to retaliate. He’s offering them the power to be witnesses of His grace. Think about this.. “Jesus redefines power—not as control, but to have the courage to carry the gospel.

Let me push that even further, because I think we're missing something huge here. This isn't just courage to stand behind a pulpit and preach—though that can be scary enough, trust me. This is courage to love. It's the power to show up in people's lives when everything in our flesh wants to pack up and go home. And here's where Jesus gets really practical with them. He doesn't just say, "Go love everybody." He gives them a roadmap on how to witness. Look at what He tells them: "You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” Have you ver thought about these three places?” Let's start with Jerusalem. That’s home, right? That’s supposed to be the easy one. That’s where your people are—the ones who recognize your face, the ones who watched you grow up, who nod when they see you at the market. You’d think it would be the safest place to begin. But it’s not. Because that’s the city that just crucified Jesus. Seriously, think about that. The people Jesus healed… the ones He taught… the ones He fed—they’re the same ones who screamed for His death. And now Jesus turns to His disciples and says, “Yeah, I want you to go back there. I want you to walk back into that city and tell them I love them. I want you to go right back to the ones who killed Me—and offer them eternal life.” That’s insane. Who does that? I wouldn’t want to go back. Would you? Like… are you kidding me? The last time I was in Jerusalem, they were shouting for blood. And now I’m supposed to go back and say, “Hey, remember Jesus? The one you rejected? He still wants you.” That’s hard. That’s uncomfortable. That’s painful. But that’s the gospel. Jesus isn’t calling us to something safe or easy—He’s calling us to something holy. And I just wonder… are we willing to love like that? Are we willing to go back to the people who hurt us… who hate us… and offer them grace? Because that’s what Jesus did. For me. For you. We were His Jerusalem. And He came into our lives anyway.

Jesus doesn’t just say, “Start in Jerusalem.” He keeps going: “and in all Judea… and Samaria.” And now it’s getting real. Because Judea, okay, that’s still kinda local—still familiar. But Samaria? That hits different. That’s uncomfortable. That’s where the lines get crossed. That’s where the tension is. You’ve got to understand—Jews and Samaritans didn’t just not get along… they had generations of hatred between them. This wasn’t just a rivalry. This was deep. Religious, cultural, racial division. They wouldn’t even walk through each other’s towns. They’d go miles out of the way just to avoid each other. And Jesus says, “Go there.” Can you imagine how that felt? Like, "Wait, what? You want me to go where my grandparents told me never to go? To love the people I was raised to avoid? To serve the ones I was taught to look down on?” It’s like Jesus looking at someone from Denver and saying, “I want you to walk into a tailgate full of Broncos fans wearing Raiders gear… and go wash their feet.” Or telling a lifelong skier, “Your mission? Go up to the top of the mountain and serve the snowboarders.” And some of you laugh… but isn’t it true? You felt that. You got a little uncomfortable, didn’t you? And that’s the point. Jesus is saying, “You’re not going to do this in your own strength. I’m giving you a power that breaks through the walls you’ve spent your whole life building. I’m going to enable you to love the people you were taught to hate.” Because before you can go to the ends of the earth, you’ve got to go to the edge of your comfort. Before you can be My witness out there… you have to love the one you’ve refused to love right here. And I just wonder—are we ready for that? Are we ready to love like that here at this church? Or are we still building fences around our faith?

And then, as if that wasn't challenging enough, He says, "and to the ends of the earth." Now we're talking about complete strangers. People in different countries, with different languages, different customs and culture. People who don't know you, don't care about you, and might even be hostile toward you. But you're going to love them anyway. Do you see what He’s doing here? He’s not handing out some easy, power-tool version of Christianity. This isn’t a reciprocating saw that cuts through problems and makes everything smooth. He’s giving them—and us—something far more powerful and way more difficult: The power to love when love doesn’t make sense. This is supernatural. Don’t miss that. This is not something you muster up on your own. You don’t just decide to love like this one day. No. This is Holy Spirit power. Because loving the people who crucified your Savior? That’s not human. Loving the people you were taught to avoid or despise? That’s not natural. Loving strangers who don’t care if you live or die? That’s not safe. But Jesus never promised safe—He promised power.And here’s the part that hits me hardest: you don’t have to fly across an ocean to obey this command. All three of those groups? They’re right here in Falcon. We’ve got people who hate us because we follow Jesus. They think we’re narrow-minded or outdated or foolish. We’ve got people—if we’re honest—that we’ve looked at with judgment or bias. People we wouldn’t want sitting in our living rooms or serving on our teams. And we’ve got people who know nothing about us—nothing about Jesus—living across the street. And we haven’t even said hello. But Jesus died for every single one of them. And He died for us, too.

But here’s what I need you to hear: this kind of obedience—this going back to Jerusalem, this loving the Samaritans, this reaching out to the ends of the earth—this kind of obedience isn’t driven by pressure. It’s not because the church made you feel guilty. It’s not because your pastor gave you a spiritual to-do list. No—this kind of obedience is born from something way deeper. It comes from intimacy. From love. It comes from the kind of relationship with Jesus where you trust Him so much, and you’re so captivated by His love, that you’d go anywhere and love anyone just to be close to His heart.

Think about it: the disciples didn’t go back to Jerusalem because it was safe. They didn’t go because they felt like heroes. They went because they knew Jesus. They loved Him. And when you love someone that much, you don’t argue with their mission—you embrace it. They would’ve walked straight into danger if it meant Jesus got glory. And honestly, they did. And that brings me to something I think we need to talk about. When it comes to being a church of witness—when it comes to having that courage to love people who seem unlovable—do you know what the single greatest truth is that you and I can carry? It's not our education. I mean, having a degree is great, but I've met some highly educated people who couldn't love their way out of a paper bag. It's not how much money we have in the bank. Money can open doors, but it can't change hearts. It's not even passion— No, the single greatest thing that fans into flame the call to missions—the thing that gives us supernatural power to love, and th courage to obey this commandment—is our intimate love relationship with Jesus.

Here’s why: Everything Jesus desires to do through you, He will do out of the overflow of what He's doing in you. Did you catch that? It's not about what you can muster up for Jesus. It's about what flows out of you because of what Jesus is doing in your heart. When you're deeply in love with Jesus, when you're experiencing His love for you every single day, that love naturally spills over into how you treat other people. It's like a well that never runs dry. When you're constantly being filled up with Jesus's love, you have love to give away—even to the difficult people, even to the ones who've hurt you, even to the strangers who don't care about you.

So, how do we fan into flames the heart for courageous mission to witness to others? Well, let's look at what these early disciples did. Look with me at verse 14: "These all with one mind were continually devoting themselves to prayer.” This phrase "one mind" in the Greek language literally means one will, one heart, one passion. And that brings me to the second truth we find in the early church that fans into flames the mission: They had a passion that produced unity. Now, can I ask us all a very humble question? It's personal, and sometimes personal questions help us ask the tough questions of our faith that we sometimes aren't willing to ask. How have we invested in the unity of Christ in this church? How have you invested in others here at this church—to get to know them, to actively love on them, to let them know you're praying for them? Do we have a passion to invest in one another? Do we have one will, one heart, one passion here at this church? What's our passion? What stirs our souls and ignites our hearts? Because I hope it's Jesus. I hope you are here because in your heart you have a burning passion to know Jesus more. You know, sometimes I get a little emotional when I think of that verse in Hebrews: "Without faith it is impossible to please God." I get emotional because I also couple that verse with this one in Romans: "Whatever does not proceed from faith is sin.” And what that means is that any attempt at obedience on my part—or any other act that isn't springing from a heart of faith in Jesus—winds up just being sin because it displeases the Lord. So I've got to get this heart of mine redirected. I've got to have this heart of mine recalibrated, because I know it's very easy at times to get unfocused on Jesus and focus on myself or focus on what I think are the problems around me. And then use my own power to accomplish God’s will. It's learning to have that relationship like David had when he repented and said, "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from your presence, and take not your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit.” And so I find a place—like my office, or I often like to go to sit by our ponds and just sit and focus on the cross at the Lutheran church. I say with my heart, "I want to know more of you, Jesus, and I pray that I would delight in you, Jesus, as I meditate on you," and I get the whole Christ before me. When I do this, faith will rise because grace is coming through it, and then obedience flows out from it. I've come to realize that true passion often emerges from a place of desperation. You see, passion doesn't wait for convenient circumstances; passion thrives in the midst of our desperation. Now, desperation is often misunderstood and seen as a sign of weakness or vulnerability. I disagree with that. I believe desperation is just like meekness, or kindness, and patience. These are things we think are weak, but actually they're strong because they all require a deep faith and trust in God's plan and timing. When we are desperate, we're driven by a deep longing or intense desire for change. Think about it... think about one moment in your life where everything felt like it was falling apart, or crashing down, or just everything seemed like it was against you. How did you feel in that moment? You wanted change. We say it all the time in the midst of our hardships… —something needs to change. Amen? But yet, in these moments of desperation, we realize the limitations of our current situation and we become willing to push beyond our comfort zones. The issue, though, is that many times in our desperation we think we've got to take matters into our own hands. And trust me, any time we take things into our own hands, that's not trusting in God.

So what did the disciples do in their desperation? They did something simple... they prayed. Prayer became the foundation of their desperation. The Bible says they got in that upper room and they devoted themselves to prayer, and they didn't stop praying together until God showed up to do what He said He was going to do. If you dig deep enough anywhere in the world where God is actively at work, let me tell you what you'll find. You'll find a remnant of people that have sought the face of God in prayer for that to happen.

Every time something extraordinary happened in the book of Acts, it started the same way—through prayer and the power of the Holy Spirit. Every time. Not one exception. There was a rhythm to it: unity among the believers… earnest prayer… the Spirit shows up… and then—power. And power always led to change. So it makes me wonder… what did they pray for in that upper room? Have you ever wondered that? What was the prayer that brought down the holy Spirit into their lives? What was their cry? What was the plea that poured out of their hearts when they were huddled together, waiting, uncertain, probably afraid… but expectant? Honestly… I have no clue. Scripture doesn’t give us the exact words. I wish it did. I wish we had the full transcript of their prayers in that moment. But here’s what we do have—we get a glimpse of what their hearts were like just a few chapters later. Because in Acts 3 and 4, after Peter and John had healed a lame man… after they were arrested, threatened, and commanded to stay silent about Jesus… they come back to the church, and guess what, they, together, as the church pray again. And this time, we do see what they prayed… Listen to their prayer… They said: “Now, Lord, consider their threats, and enable your servants to speak your word with all boldness, while You stretch out Your hand to heal, and signs and wonders are done through the name of Your holy servant Jesus.” Do you feel the weight of that? They didn’t pray for safety. They didn’t ask for protection. They didn’t say, “God, make this easier.” No, they said, “God, make us bolder.” They asked for courage—not comfort. They prayed, not that the storm would pass, but that they would have the strength to stand in it. That’s not the prayer of people in love with this world. That’s the prayer of people consumed with the glory of Christ.

And I read that—and my heart burns. Because that’s what I want. That’s what I long for. I don’t want to live a safe life. I don’t want to waste my days clinging to comfort and calling it blessing. I want to burn with the name of Jesus on my lips. I want the gospel to be so alive in me that it spills out—even when it costs me. Especially when it costs me. I would rather Christ be magnified in my death than for me to live quietly and miss the joy of proclaiming Him. I want my life to be a loud and holy echo of heaven’s anthem: “Worthy is the Lamb!”

So here’s my prayer— Oh God, let Your gospel ring louder than my fear. Let Your name rise higher than my comfort. Let Your glory matter more than my convenience. Stretch out Your hand. Shake what needs to be shaken. Break what needs to be broken. Do whatever You need to do, Lord, but don’t let me settle for a Christianity that plays it safe. Don’t let me grow numb to the miracle of the gospel. I want to live for You—fully, freely, fearlessly. Because You are worthy. Worthy of every breath, every step, every sacrifice. Worthy of it all.

As Peter comes up… I wanna ask.. So what do we do with this? We don’t leave this room today talking about boldness as if it’s some personality trait for the spiritually elite. No. Boldness is the byproduct of beholding. Boldness is what happens when the Spirit of the living God fills ordinary people with an extraordinary vision of Jesus. And if that’s true—then hear me: the greatest danger in your life is not persecution. It’s comfort. The greatest threat to your soul is not the world out there… it’s apathy in here. It’s going through life never truly needing God because you never truly trusted Him. So here’s the question that’s ringing in my own heart, and maybe it’s ringing in yours too: Is Jesus enough? Is He enough when the threats come? Is He enough when the cost is high? Is He enough when the calling feels impossible? Is He enough when it means losing the approval of others, the security of your plans, or the dreams you thought would fulfill you? Because if He is—if Christ is truly your treasure—then let the world shake. Let the storms come. Let the fire fall. If I have Him, I have everything. So here’s my invitation to you. Don’t walk out of this moment unchanged. Don’t trade boldness for safety. Don’t settle for a version of Christianity that knows the words but has lost the wonder. Fall on your knees today—right here, right now—and say with trembling joy: “Whatever it costs, Lord—You are worthy.” And may we become a people who pray like the early church, love like Jesus, live by the power of the Spirit, and proclaim the gospel with lives that scream: Christ is all. Christ is all. Christ is all. And don’t miss this—when the church in Acts 4 prayed, they asked for signs, wonders, and miracles. And do you know what the miracle was? It wasn’t fire from heaven. It wasn’t chains falling off. It wasn’t spectacle. The miracle… was boldness. The miracle was that the Holy Spirit showed up again. He filled them again. He empowered them again. And what followed wasn’t just noise—it was salvation. That’s the greatest wonder. That hearts could turn. That lives could be raised. That people who were once dead in sin could be made alive in Christ. Maybe that’s the miracle you need today. Not a change in your situation—but a change in your heart. Not more control, but more surrender. Not a louder voice, but a Spirit-filled one. So right now, I want to create space for you to respond. Why not stand right now? Sometimes that’s half the battle. The other half… is being honest about where your heart is. If you need to kneel, kneel. If you need to come to the front and pray, come. If you just need to sit and say, “Holy Spirit, I’m available”—then let that be your offering. This moment is not about a performance—it’s about a posture. A posture of saying: “Holy Spirit, You are welcome here—in this room, in this heart, in this life.”*